


Leather Jackets and Stained Lingerie

by wolfie_slays



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cock Warming, Daddy Kink, Lingerie, M/M, Mafia Boss Tony Stark, Overstimulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 07:37:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17341271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfie_slays/pseuds/wolfie_slays
Summary: Peter likes to keep his daddy happy, and sometimes (read: most of the time) that means keeping his cock warm whilst Tony deals with business





	Leather Jackets and Stained Lingerie

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on tumblr @sluttystarker

****

“I find it hilarious that you think I’ll put up with this sort of lax behaviour in my inner circle.”

Tony’s voice was deep, dangerous, _venomous_ , and it sent a delicious shiver up Peter’s spine from where he was seated in Tony’s lap, blood red panties shoved to the side and Tony’s frankly huge cock deep in his ass. Peter bit his lip, let his head fall forward onto Tony’s shoulder, mouthing at the fabric-covered skin as the older man rubbed an absent hand up and down his bare back. 

“In my defence, sir, the clean-up wasn’t something I was asked to supervise.” came Steve’s voice from across the desk. “You asked me to dispose of him, Clint’s team dealt with clean up.”

“Are you trying to correct me, Cap?” Tony asked, his voice low, radiating predatory intention. “Are you telling me it was my orders that caused this shit show?”

“No sir.”

“Mutilate him, I believe I asked. Rip him up so badly that his own mother couldn’t fucking pick him out in a line up.”

“Yes sir, I know, I did, but-”

“Then why the fuck is it that the feds managed to identify a body, huh?”

It was a rhetorical question, any fool could see that, but Steve Rogers was never one to back down; that’s why Peter liked him so much. Any meetings Tony had with Steve usually ended in Peter getting fucked all to hell by Tony’s deliciously fat cock, like the good little stress-reliever he was, letting Tony take his anger out on him however he wanted. 

“I told you, sir.” Steve insisted, though there was a tremor in his voice, which presumably came from the way Tony had casually moved his hand from Peter’s back towards the handgun lying on his desk. “My mission was disposal, Clint’s was clean up. I’m not the guilty party here.”

Peter felt Tony’s jaw clench with the effort of keeping his anger under control, muscles in his shoulders bunching with tension under Peter’s gentle grip. The younger boy whined, shivered for extra effect, licking a stripe across Tony’s exposed throat. 

“Daddy?” 

“Daddy’s working, sugar.” Tony murmured. “You know the rules. Be quiet.”

“But-”

“ _Peter_.”

“But I’m _cold_ , daddy.”

Tony made a disgruntled noise, but nevertheless placed a kiss on Peter’s temple, before he was shrugging out of his heavy, expensive leather jacket and draping it over Peter’s shoulders. Peter sighed contentedly, wrapping himself in Tony’s warmth, the familiar smell of gunpowder and whiskey and cigarettes filling his head, making him dizzy with desire. The feeling of Tony’s slowly hardening cock in his ass only served to make him more eager, but he wasn’t allowed to grind down, wasn’t allowed to give himself any release despite the fact that his panties were stained with Tony’s cum, and his own cock was straining in the restrictive material, dripping pre-come.

“I put you on the mission, you take the fucking consequences, Rogers.” Tony hissed, maintaining a gentle touch on Peter’s thigh that was at odds with the venom in his voice, making Peter squirm. “You engage the Hawk for clean up, don’t wanna get your hands dirty, that’s fine, I don’t care, but when everything goes tits up, you’ll face the fucking consequences.”

“Yes, sir.” Steve nodded sharply, biting back his retort. “Give me forty-eight hours and this’ll all go away.”

“You have twenty-four.” Tony spat, then grinned at the shocked look on Steve’s face. “Hop to, little soldier. Things won’t look pretty if I have to sort this out by myself.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now get out.”

The door had barely closed behind Steve before Tony was grabbing Peter’s hips with rough hands, encouraging the boy to grind down against him, gritting his teeth at the sight of Peter’s blissed out face, lips parted and eyes fluttering closed. 

“That good for you, baby?” Tony murmured, licking at the spot just under Peter’s ear that make him keen. “You made daddy so hard, sitting here wearing my clothes, showing everyone that you’re mine, showing fucking _Rogers_ that you’re mine. You should do that more often.”

“All yours, daddy, please.” Peter whimpered. “I need you, need to make you feel good.”

“God, you’re dripping.” muttered Tony, pulling the front of Peter’s panties down to expose his weeping cocklet, below average size as it was but _tiny_ in Tony’s grip. “You need to come, sweetheart?”

“Please, daddy, _please_.”

“Good little boy, keeping daddy’s cock warm whilst he has to deal with these _amateurs_.” Tony cooed, trailing his fingers slowly up and down Peter’s dick. “I see them staring at you, watching you take daddy’s cock so well, looking like they could just eat you up.”

“Don’t want anyone else.” Peter slurred, panting as Tony’s calloused hands worked him over. “Don’t like it when daddy gets stressed, or angry, and so you can take it out on me and then you’ll be happy again.”

“Such a good little boy.” Tony groaned. “So good for your daddy, you always are. You need to come, angel?”

Peter whimpered, nodding frantically as Tony twisted over his head on the upstroke, rubbing gently that the bundle of nerves just below. 

“Daddy’s still gonna fuck you if you come now.” Tony warned. “I know how sensitive you get.”

“I’ll be- _ah, ah_ -I’ll be good, I promise.” Peter whimpered, bucking into Tony’s touch, humiliation and arousal burning through him in equal parts at how small his cock looked in Tony’s hand. “Please, please daddy, let me come.”

“Let go, angel, I’ve got you.” Tony nodded, and Peter whined, high and breathy as he spilled over Tony’s hand, grinding his cock against his sensitive prostate. “Bad little boy, you made a mess all over my jacket.”

“Sorry, daddy, I’ll-”

“Shh, no apologies, it’ll just show everyone how easy you are for me, sweetheart. Now be a good boy, ride daddy and make me come.”

“Yes daddy.”

An hour later, Tony had sated himself with the sight of his gorgeous boy bouncing on his cock, wearing nothing but those slutty panties and a jacket that just screamed _property of Tony Stark_ , covered in Peter’s come from the number of times Tony had coaxed the poor thing to a sore, shuddering orgasm. Peter was sprawled across Tony’s chest, arms round his neck as the older man ran soothing fingers through his hair, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. 

“Boss? Car’s ready.”

Happy stuck his head round the door, not battling an eyelid at the sight of a cum covered, fucked out Peter Parker on his employer’s lap. Tony nodded, waving him away. 

“You ready to go home, angel?” Tony murmured, gently pushing Peter to sit up. “Want me to carry you?”

“’m okay.” Peter nodded, sliding off Tony’s lap and standing on wobbly legs, offering the older man a shy smile. “Can I keep your jacket on?”

“Of course, baby.”

And if Peter walked through the hallways of their facility wearing nothing but stained lingerie and Tony’s leather jacket, clinging onto his muscled arm as the older man placed a possessive hand on his boy’s lower back, what of it? He was Tony Stark, the Merchant of Death, and no one was going to question him.


End file.
